Happy Ending
by Tam Lynne
Summary: Phantoms! Mizzies! Drama! True Love! R/C Romance! The Limbo of Happy-Endingless People!


Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, of course – nothing does.  Is that really such a big surprise?  I also apologize in advance to any die-hard Eponine and Erik-worshippers; I have nothing against either of them, but every so often the other side needs to have a say.

A Happy Ending for All

            Cosette was not happy.

            For the twentieth time that week, history had been rewritten so her husband, Marius, would end up poor martyred Eponine, in a tailor-made happy ending.  People liked Eponine.  They thought she was spunky.  For some reason, they did not like Cosette.

            "And what has she got that I haven't?" muttered Cosette, pacing angrily through the Limbo of Happy-Endingless Folk.  "It's not my fault that her childhood was more tragic than mine.  I could hardly help having a loving father, now, could I?  And as for the whole dying-for-Marius bit – do people _read_ the book?  The only reason she did it was because she wanted him to do!  And it's not like I _wouldn't _have died for Marius, if I had the chance.  I mean, it's not like anyone told me he was in danger, or I would have been there like a shot.  I was never even allowed to leave the house without my father, for Pete's sake – how was I supposed to know there was a revolution going on?"  She contemplated cursing, but, being a well-bred young lady, confined herself to a refined "Poot!" and continued to pace.

            Raoul, too, was not happy.  His wife, Christine, had chosen brilliant, tormented Erik over him in yet another revised ending, and after storming out in a huff, Raoul had only two options – to give himself over to the fop-torturers, who planned to put him in a pink puffy dress and have him form a threesome with the managers, or head to the Limbo of Happy-Endingless Folk.  The latter seemed to him a wiser choice.

            "And after all," complained Raoul aloud, "it's not like I'm a bad person.  Sure, I got jealous once in a while – I'm only human!  And so what if I like my clothes pretty?  There's nothing wrong with that!  The Scarlet Pimpernel pays _much_ more attention to his outfits than me, but everyone loves _him_ nevertheless.  And if that white half-mask isn't a vanity, I don't know what is.  In the original book, it was black and covered the whole face, but noooo, precious tormented Erik had to have something prettier for the musical.  And they call me the fop!  It's not my fault I was born pretty!  And it's not like I _wanted_ him to die at the end of the story – I was perfectly fine with him as long as he left Christine alone, which is more than he could say for me!"

            It was at this point in his rant that he walked into Cosette.

            "Watch where you're going, you . . . less-than-polite person," said Cosette indignantly.  It was the worst insult she could think of.

            "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," began Raoul, then stopped.  "No.  You know what?  I'm not being a nice guy anymore.  Being a nice guy doesn't get you anything except the hatred of fangirls.  Apparently to be loved around here you need to be tormented, murderous and dead."

            "Oh, tell me about it!" agreed Cosette.  "I've been dumped twenty times for a juvenile thief who made my life a living . . . heck when I was little -"

            "You too?"  Raoul looked at her with new interest.  "I thought I was the only one!"  Gallantly, he added, "Although I don't see how anyone could pass up someone as pretty as you.  And with such a nice soprano voice, too.  Was it your fiancé?"

            "My husband," said Cosette grimly.  "Apparently ex-husband now."  She sighed.  "And he was such a sweet little dim thing . . . I miss the way he used to stalk me!  I miss the way he was cruel and heartless towards the other man in my life, who was a father-figure to me and helped me to achieve my dreams at the expense of his own happiness!  Gosh darn it, I even miss his obsession with nice clothes!"

            Raoul blinked, startled.  "But – but that sounds like me!"

            "What do you mean?"

            "Well," said Raoul, getting more excited with every word, "I used to follow my girlfriend around everywhere – even when she went to visit her dead father in the graveyard.  And I, too, was jealous of the other man in her life, whom she thought was her dead father, and who helped her to achieve her dreams at the expense of his own happiness – well, in the original version, that is.  Before the fans warped it, so that he didn't have to sacrifice anything – which, I might add, rather defeats the purpose, since it gets rid of all the nobility in his character anyway.  And I, too, am obsessed with nice clothes!"

            "But that's – that's astonishing!" said Cosette, her eyes opening wide.  "You sound nearly exactly like Marius!"

            "And I have to confess," said Raoul, "that your high soprano voice stirs in me memories of my darling Christine."

            "Why, Mr. -"  Cosette paused, realizing she didn't know his name.

            "De Chagny," said Raoul.  "But call me Raoul.  Please."

            "Raoul, then," said Cosette, blushing a little.  "And you must call me Cosette.  But in any case, Raoul, why – you must see that that's our solution!"

            "What is?" said Raoul, who sometimes took a little while to process new ideas.

            "You and I," said Cosette patiently.  "We're made for each other.  No one could possibly object to our love, because nobody else wants us anyways."

"Oh, Cosette -"  

            "But wait!"  Cosette held up a hand.  "I don't want to settle for second-best just because Marius can't love me.  I have to make sure you're the man I want to be with."  She paused a second, then, suddenly, flung her elegant red fan as far as she could throw it.  That wasn't particularly far.  "Raoul," she commanded, "fetch!"

            Raoul, who was quite fond of fetching things, scurried off and brought the fan back to her, offering it to her on bended knee.

            "Good boy."  Cosette patted his head.  "I think we'll be very happy together."

            "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime?" said Raoul, hopefully.

            "I was born to be with you," returned Cosette, with a fond smile.

            At that point, Marius came running into the Limbo of Happy-Endingless Folk, his arms outstretched.  "Cosette!" he called.  "Cosette!  Eponine has been put into a crossover fanfiction with Erik – you and I can be happy together again!"

            At the same time, a beautiful voice floated down from the clouds.  "Raoul!  Oh, Raoul!"

            Cosette and Raoul hesitated.  Then Cosette said, her voice quavering, "Oh, Marius – I love you, but I need a more stable relationship.  I'm staying with Raoul!"

            "What she said," said Raoul, to Christine.

            Then the happy couple, no longer belonging in the Limbo of Happy-Endingless folk, sauntered out together.

            Marius looked at Christine and shrugged.  "Hey," he said, hopefully, "you free Friday night?"


End file.
